Time was like a river, and memory was a current. Time flowed on without ceasing, no matter what or who tried to get in its way. But memory was changeable, and even losable. Like a current it could carry a person far away from their starting point, leaving them somewhere they might never have intended to be.
Parts of this were really beautiful and so many times I found myself in love with the writing. However, I found myself wanting more out of this book, especially with the emotion such a concept implies, all the hype it got from a trusted friend, and beginning parts of the book rife with emotion such as this:
"Zack?" Leith said the name a few times, trying out both the long and short versions. "I don't remember. He's my best friend?" Leith hadn't had someone he would have called a best friend since childhood. And even then it'd been Arthur. Did grown men even declare friendships like that? It seemed a little weird.
But Leith didn't question it because the end of Arthur's nose went red, and his gray eyes swam as they always did when Leith didn't remember something or someone important. "He's the best friend you've ever had. Be nice to him." Arthur patted his arm as he stood. "Let him hug you."
And this one here:
Zack's eyes drew Leith's attention. He studied them, trying to decide if they were green or blue, or something in between. But the color was only part of it; he didn't look away because there was something in Zack's eyes that made his throat ache.
And yet, for how achingly tragic these parts are, and for how beautiful much of the writing is, I did find it lacking; lacking enough that I had to put it down for awhile and then found some parts to be difficult to get through once I picked it back up.